Monday, 29 September 2014

Diary of an Honest Naturalista: Week 69

Okay, so if you follow this diary, like I know some people do, you would know that last week wasn’t really great for me. I read your comments, and saw people agitating. As you all know that was the first time something like that would happen, and by the grace of God, will be the last time, so please, pardon me
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Last week, I stood under the sun for almost a whole day that my hair almost fried. It was terrible. But that is another story entirely.

As to why I could not post last week, my sister, Boma’s mum…

Early Monday morning, as I was about to leave the house, her husband placed a call to my mum, informing her that my sister was in the hospital, and had been bleeding profusely. My mum rushed to the hospital, while I went to work, silently praying that my sister and her baby would be fine.

By the time I got to work, my mum had called me like 50 times, panicking over and over again. When she called me like 50 more times in the next two hours, I had no choice but to take permission from Madam Adams, to leave work.

When I got to the hospital, I was informed that my sister had already lost the baby, although it looked like my mum was the one who lost the baby, and my sister was just merely commiserating with her.

I don’t know what it means to lose a child, and I am not sure my mum knows, but I know it can be very painful. Looking at how my sister was taking it, I knew she was very strong. We all stayed there, trying to sympathise with her. After a while, the mood became calmer.

A doctor sent a nurse to give my sister some medication.

After the nurse administered the drugs, she walked to my side, and said “Madam, no vex o.”

All eyes turned to her, wanting to know the big secret this woman was about to reveal to me, as she kept inching close to me.

Then she repeated. “Madam, please, no vex o. I want to ask you something. Can I ask?” she seemed cautious.

I said “go ahead.”

Then she lowered her voice a bit, even though the room was quiet enough for everyone to hear what she was saying. “Is this your hair?”

“Are you kidding me?” I thought? “Hair talk again? In the hospital? When my sister just lost a baby?” I just gave the nurse a fake smile, and said “yes.”

Then she went further to ask “Is it dreads, or everything is virgin hair?”

I think she was getting her terms twisted up, but I understood what she was trying to say, so I answered her.

“Everything is virgin hair.”

“Wooooww. All your hair? It is fine o.” she smiled sheepishly.

“Thank you.” I said, and she left, feeling like she just scored a goal, with this major discovery.

“So Anna, your hair still manages to steal the show, in the case where I am supposed to be the superstar.” I suddenly heard my sister’s voice.

I turned to look at her, and saw her mischievous smile. It was so wide, I felt she was just using it to cover her pain. As I walked closer to her, I was thinking of something appropriate to say, to sustain the light mood.